SoylentGreen
New member
Part 1: Anticipation
We had discussed it before. Many times. That someday we would do an African trip and a hunt and what we would hunt and how and where. I started thinking about it but Dad ran out of time and for many years I did not think of it again. Around 2019 I stumbled onto stories of Namibian hunts on Africa Hunting and started remembering and thinking. Planning started, and then during covid I had more time to think and start to plan. I spoke to people I had never met before and asked questions and started planning. I asked for a client lists. I spoke with a family that had been on 6 safari trips in 7 years. It’s like walking through the marina in San Diego... Where do people get all this money? But I digress. In 2021 I paid a deposit at Kowas Adventure Safaris in central Namibia. I figured that would be the start, and in a way it was. But there was significant “scope creep” in this mission. What began as us looking for a family-friendly safari on a low fence ranch outside of the Malaria zone quickly grew into a full-family affair, and then Grandma and also my wife’s Dad, Rich (Papa) decided they didn’t want to miss the fun either. So, three years later here we were on the nonstop to Heathrow and then onto Johannesburg to meet our concierge and help us get the rifles into Africa.
If you have not done a safari before I hope this write-up is helpful. These reports were certainly helpful to me int he planning process. I will add the things I wish I knew. It will take me several parts, so if you are looking for a quick read this thread might not be for you. But I hope it is helpful and reflective of the experience we had.
We looked at transiting from Frankfurt direct to Windhoek, and that certainly would have been easier. But the costs are huge, and since everything I do is also applied tot eh wife and kids, and further obligates my Mom and my wife’s dad, we had to rule out both the nonstop from Atlanta to Capetown AND the Frankfurt to Windhoek routes. Perhaps another time.
Having heard all the drama about bringing rifles through Johannesburg, we did opt for the concierge service and I am glad that we did. Here is our escort and out little family caravan heading to do all the very important paperwork and wait in all the very important lines that are required to move a rifle into South Africa for a few hours.
If you have not done this in the past, I cannot imagine doing it for the first time without either local or professional help. We had to go to FOUR difference offices in the airport to buy airline check tags, police permits, airline permits, check the rifles, then head to the actual firearm office so we could check the rifles one more time to get them into Windhoek. This little office was crammed with people and loud and everyone talking and gesturing and laughing and asking questions. We got it figured out but the money for the concierge service is one of the better investments we made.
Finally, after nearly 24 hours in the air, just one more flight and we would be in Namibia. Flying over Namibia there are no clouds and the ground below is a rolling red expanse, interrupted by the occasional red scar of a road or two track stretching to the horizon.
We land. Our hosts – Jacques [“Jock”] and his wife Elleni are there with their 2 year old son and we are all ready to pile into the trucks as soon as we pick up the rifles and ammo cases. I tell Jacques I can see the cases are in the police office on the Tile tracker so I’m not worried. The policeman finally opens the office and my rifles and ammo case are there and Papa’s rifle is there but no ammo case. How could the ammo case make it to the other side of the world and through all the steps in Jo’berg and then get lost on the last 90 minute flight? The wifi in the airport is shut down and now we can’t get his air-tag to connect but it’s no where to be found and we fill out some more paperwork and head to the farm. It’s dark when we arrive. We eat and collapse, exhausted.
I make coffee and get set up for day one. We will visit the rifle range and then maybe do a quick afternoon hunt. Papa and the kids and my mom are off in two days to do a photo safari at a private game reserve but I will stay and hunt hard. On Papa’s list are an oryx and a kudu. My list is a bit longer and will change some over the course of the trip. But first, like the song says “A cup of Coffee and a sunrise, Sunday drives and time to kill”
The land is sparse and dry. Absolutely everything has some kind of vicious thorn that is ready to grab you. Everything in your nose and sinuses and eyes freezes and dries—there is almost no humidity at all and there will not be any for months more. We eat and hit the range. First on the bags, then on the sticks. Jacques has this kind of modified stick contraption that lets you stand but also has a front and rear rifle support. It takes a minute to set-up, but it is relatively stable and both the wife and I shoot a few shots and then Jacques seems happy and all of us area satisfied.
My rifle is Grandad’s Ruger M77 in .338 win mag. It belonged to him for many years and he hunted elk with it in New Mexico. It belonged to Dad after that and he hunted elk with it in Colorado and New Mexico. It belongs to me now. Bubba (age 7) comes along and shoots Jacques’ 22-250 that will figure very prominently in the story later on. Chrissy takes a few shots too but this is just for practice as much as anything else.
We do have to make adjustments to both rifles but nothing major. Perhaps one error—here we do NOT shoot Papa’s 338 win mag with my 338 min mag ammo. I am using the same load I use at home for elk but in the past his rifle has not patterned as well as mine with this handload. So we defer on zeroing his rifle, since we are going to have his ammo back in a day or so, surely, and would only have to repeat the exercise then (right?). It would be a decision we would regret. When we check the air tag on Rich’s ammo case we can see it’s still in Jo’berg. Not sure how that happened, but it’s there.
After the range we take a break. We learn quickly that in Namibia in the afternoon almost nothing moves. People or animals. This will come into play later, but the hunts are almost all morning/evening affairs and then a nap or relaxation or rest or billiards during the afternoon.
That afternoon we do a quick game drive. It will be Big sister (age 9) who joins first since she will be leaving for the other game park in a few days. It’s the very first real day, so we are not really hunting, but not really NOT hunting either.
We ride onto a neighboring farm that Jacques says will have some kudu. The general procedure is not unlike hunting elk or mule deer in Oregon. Drive somewhere you can glass. Glass, then hopefully find something to chase. Well on this occasion, our first real foray, the kudu does not get the memo to wait until we are on the “koppie”, and when we come around a curve Jacques stops the rig and signals to look ahead. He says there is a good bull 500 yards out in the road. We quickly hop down and swing right. We cut through the bush and stalk quickly but can’t get the wind right and when we pop out to where the Kudu was there is nothing. In trying to get around the kudu, we circle around some Oryx, but when we cut back in to see what the oryx look like we have pushed them out. We decide it best to back out and not push the kudu bull out of the area. But even in this little hunt we see oryx everywhere and are very content to put this bull to bed and come back in the morning.
Continued in part 2
We had discussed it before. Many times. That someday we would do an African trip and a hunt and what we would hunt and how and where. I started thinking about it but Dad ran out of time and for many years I did not think of it again. Around 2019 I stumbled onto stories of Namibian hunts on Africa Hunting and started remembering and thinking. Planning started, and then during covid I had more time to think and start to plan. I spoke to people I had never met before and asked questions and started planning. I asked for a client lists. I spoke with a family that had been on 6 safari trips in 7 years. It’s like walking through the marina in San Diego... Where do people get all this money? But I digress. In 2021 I paid a deposit at Kowas Adventure Safaris in central Namibia. I figured that would be the start, and in a way it was. But there was significant “scope creep” in this mission. What began as us looking for a family-friendly safari on a low fence ranch outside of the Malaria zone quickly grew into a full-family affair, and then Grandma and also my wife’s Dad, Rich (Papa) decided they didn’t want to miss the fun either. So, three years later here we were on the nonstop to Heathrow and then onto Johannesburg to meet our concierge and help us get the rifles into Africa.
If you have not done a safari before I hope this write-up is helpful. These reports were certainly helpful to me int he planning process. I will add the things I wish I knew. It will take me several parts, so if you are looking for a quick read this thread might not be for you. But I hope it is helpful and reflective of the experience we had.
We looked at transiting from Frankfurt direct to Windhoek, and that certainly would have been easier. But the costs are huge, and since everything I do is also applied tot eh wife and kids, and further obligates my Mom and my wife’s dad, we had to rule out both the nonstop from Atlanta to Capetown AND the Frankfurt to Windhoek routes. Perhaps another time.
Having heard all the drama about bringing rifles through Johannesburg, we did opt for the concierge service and I am glad that we did. Here is our escort and out little family caravan heading to do all the very important paperwork and wait in all the very important lines that are required to move a rifle into South Africa for a few hours.
If you have not done this in the past, I cannot imagine doing it for the first time without either local or professional help. We had to go to FOUR difference offices in the airport to buy airline check tags, police permits, airline permits, check the rifles, then head to the actual firearm office so we could check the rifles one more time to get them into Windhoek. This little office was crammed with people and loud and everyone talking and gesturing and laughing and asking questions. We got it figured out but the money for the concierge service is one of the better investments we made.
Finally, after nearly 24 hours in the air, just one more flight and we would be in Namibia. Flying over Namibia there are no clouds and the ground below is a rolling red expanse, interrupted by the occasional red scar of a road or two track stretching to the horizon.
We land. Our hosts – Jacques [“Jock”] and his wife Elleni are there with their 2 year old son and we are all ready to pile into the trucks as soon as we pick up the rifles and ammo cases. I tell Jacques I can see the cases are in the police office on the Tile tracker so I’m not worried. The policeman finally opens the office and my rifles and ammo case are there and Papa’s rifle is there but no ammo case. How could the ammo case make it to the other side of the world and through all the steps in Jo’berg and then get lost on the last 90 minute flight? The wifi in the airport is shut down and now we can’t get his air-tag to connect but it’s no where to be found and we fill out some more paperwork and head to the farm. It’s dark when we arrive. We eat and collapse, exhausted.
I make coffee and get set up for day one. We will visit the rifle range and then maybe do a quick afternoon hunt. Papa and the kids and my mom are off in two days to do a photo safari at a private game reserve but I will stay and hunt hard. On Papa’s list are an oryx and a kudu. My list is a bit longer and will change some over the course of the trip. But first, like the song says “A cup of Coffee and a sunrise, Sunday drives and time to kill”
The land is sparse and dry. Absolutely everything has some kind of vicious thorn that is ready to grab you. Everything in your nose and sinuses and eyes freezes and dries—there is almost no humidity at all and there will not be any for months more. We eat and hit the range. First on the bags, then on the sticks. Jacques has this kind of modified stick contraption that lets you stand but also has a front and rear rifle support. It takes a minute to set-up, but it is relatively stable and both the wife and I shoot a few shots and then Jacques seems happy and all of us area satisfied.
My rifle is Grandad’s Ruger M77 in .338 win mag. It belonged to him for many years and he hunted elk with it in New Mexico. It belonged to Dad after that and he hunted elk with it in Colorado and New Mexico. It belongs to me now. Bubba (age 7) comes along and shoots Jacques’ 22-250 that will figure very prominently in the story later on. Chrissy takes a few shots too but this is just for practice as much as anything else.
We do have to make adjustments to both rifles but nothing major. Perhaps one error—here we do NOT shoot Papa’s 338 win mag with my 338 min mag ammo. I am using the same load I use at home for elk but in the past his rifle has not patterned as well as mine with this handload. So we defer on zeroing his rifle, since we are going to have his ammo back in a day or so, surely, and would only have to repeat the exercise then (right?). It would be a decision we would regret. When we check the air tag on Rich’s ammo case we can see it’s still in Jo’berg. Not sure how that happened, but it’s there.
After the range we take a break. We learn quickly that in Namibia in the afternoon almost nothing moves. People or animals. This will come into play later, but the hunts are almost all morning/evening affairs and then a nap or relaxation or rest or billiards during the afternoon.
That afternoon we do a quick game drive. It will be Big sister (age 9) who joins first since she will be leaving for the other game park in a few days. It’s the very first real day, so we are not really hunting, but not really NOT hunting either.
We ride onto a neighboring farm that Jacques says will have some kudu. The general procedure is not unlike hunting elk or mule deer in Oregon. Drive somewhere you can glass. Glass, then hopefully find something to chase. Well on this occasion, our first real foray, the kudu does not get the memo to wait until we are on the “koppie”, and when we come around a curve Jacques stops the rig and signals to look ahead. He says there is a good bull 500 yards out in the road. We quickly hop down and swing right. We cut through the bush and stalk quickly but can’t get the wind right and when we pop out to where the Kudu was there is nothing. In trying to get around the kudu, we circle around some Oryx, but when we cut back in to see what the oryx look like we have pushed them out. We decide it best to back out and not push the kudu bull out of the area. But even in this little hunt we see oryx everywhere and are very content to put this bull to bed and come back in the morning.
Continued in part 2
Last edited by a moderator:
